


Unrelenting Force

by Cantatrice18



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magical Accidents, Mistakes, One Shot, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24867469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: The Dragonborn shouts a bit too recklessly, and Lydia pays the price.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Unrelenting Force

The noise was deafening. The sound went through Lydia like a shiver magnified a million times over. She felt herself lifted off the ground and thrown backwards, arms and legs gone limp and useless in the face of such sheer power. She was falling, falling, the sun was bright above her. Then sudden, icy cold as she struck the water.

The weight of her armor dragged her down. Her mind was still reeling from the shout, and her limbs refused to co-operate. The sun faded, replaced by a greenish haze, and she closed her eyes, waiting for death to take her. The world went black. 

Warmth surrounded her like a gentle, tentative embrace. Someone was stroking her hair and talking softly. Lydia’s eyelids fluttered open.

She was lying atop a bedroll beside a fire. The sky above was pink with the fading rays of the sun. She could hear the lapping of waves nearby, but they were calm and soothing. “Is this . . . Sovngarde?” she asked hoarsely.

A low chuckle sounded behind her. Lydia cricked her neck to look and saw the Dragonborn kneeling beside the bedroll. The woman’s eyes glinted with mirth, though Lydia saw concern in them as well. “Not quite yet, my Housecarl,” she teased. 

Lydia struggled to sit up, groaning. “What happened?”

The humor died in the Dragonborn’s eyes. “A mistake,” she said shortly. “A miscalculation on my part.”

“You . . . shouted,” Lydia said slowly.

“Yes.” The Dragonborn sounded almost angry, though Lydia could sense that the anger was not directed at her. “It won’t happen again.”

“It’s alright—” Lydia began to reassure her, but the Dragonborn shook her head.

“It isn’t,” she insisted. “I could have killed you. If not for the precise angle of your fall, the lake below . . .” she shuddered. “You could have truly gone to Sovngarde this day.”

A prickle of cold danced its way over the back of Lydia’s neck. “It was an accident,” she assured her Thane. “In battle, accidents happen.” 

“Reckless,” the Dragonborn murmured, but the edge had gone off her anger. “I acted without thought. Without care for your safety. Doesn’t that bother you?”

Lydia shook her head. “My Thane, I am sworn to serve you. But I would do so even if it were not my duty as your Housecarl. I have the utmost faith in you, regardless of any mistakes you make.”

The Dragonborn looked away. “You are too trusting,” she complained softly, but there was no fire behind her words. “I hope, one day, to deserve the loyalty you show me. In the meantime,” she rested a hand on Lydia’s shoulder, “I swear not to shout without checking my surroundings first. Does that sound reasonable?”

“As you will, my Thane,” Lydia replied placidly. She hadn’t been exaggerating: she trusted this young woman more than she had ever trusted anyone in her life. In the time since they’d met, Lydia had grown to admire the Dragonborn for her prowess in battle and her sheer tenacity. She knew there were some who envied the Thane’s powers, but Lydia had never counted herself among their number. She’d seen the Dragonborn struggle with perfecting shouts, crafting every word like a smith molded silver, all the while making certain her practice sessions were as far from civilians as possible to prevent any unforeseen disasters. Lydia was certain her mistress would never intentionally cause her injury or place her in harm’s way. Today’s incident was an isolated event, and one that did nothing to shake her full confidence in the Dragonborn’s ability to protect her, sustain her, and fight by her side. In spite of the frown that still creased the Dragonborn’s brow, Lydia was content.


End file.
